


And Seven Became Eight

by Siren_Of_Old



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Implied OCD, Implied Reddie - Freeform, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Pennywise (IT), Stan Lives, Suicide Attempt, established benverly, i love Stan and Richie, i've cried over these fuckers too much, implied Bike, they're my boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siren_Of_Old/pseuds/Siren_Of_Old
Summary: ... or how Patricia Blum Uris became one of the Losers.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	And Seven Became Eight

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written and published on here in over a year due to my depression, and this idea came to me on my walk to work one morning. I love Stan, and I love how everyone writes his and Patty's relationship. 
> 
> Here's hoping I did the fandom some justice!

At first, she didn’t believe him.

He was hooked up to machine with pain meds pumping into his body, his eyes tired and dull. She gaped at him – an alien clown demon that eats children? It had to be the medication; she voiced such and got up to call a nurse to recheck the dosage he was getting.

But he still insisted that it was real, far after they’d taken him off the pain meds and kept him in the hospital to be supervised for a few more days. He told her terrifying stories of a broken-down house; of disgusting sewers that echoed with drips and whispers; of teeth gripping his face and the terror of being alone well beyond after they’d thought they’d destroyed their fears.

While he’d been in the hospital, his friend Mike had called his phone once more, asking if he was going to return. Patty had blurted out that he was in the hospital and hung up, heart racing at the idea of him going to fight whatever demon haunted him and his friends. It wasn’t until a few days later, when Mike had called back to speak with Stan did she start to truly believe his story.

She’d been out of the room, getting them both some food, only to return to him crying into his hands.

“Stan!” She gasped, rushing forwards to drop the food tray on the bedside table. She gently placed her hands on his knees, imploring him to look at her. “Are you okay, love? What happened?”

“Is that Patty?” A soft female voice asked, and it was then that Patty noticed that his phone was in his lap, the speakerphone on and the name ‘Mike Hanlon’ reading on the screen. She sat down in her chair, knees shaking with anxiety.

“This is Patricia, who is this?”

“My name is Beverly,” the woman said, before someone yelped in the background and there was a shuffling. A different voice came over the phone – a loud man’s. “Heya, Pattycakes! How’s it feel to be married to Stan the Man?”

Stan made a horrible noise deep in his throat, raising his head to glare at the phone, “Do _not_ call my wife that, Trashmouth.”

“Trashmouth?” Patty whispered as more shuffling sounded over the phone before Beverly was speaking again.

“I’m sorry, Patty, that was Richie. He’s been a little excitable since we got a hold of Stan.”

“I just wanna show him my _love_ and _support_ , Beverly! Let me love our Stan Man!”

Patty looked between the phone and her husband, who was wiping tears away from eyes with a small smile on his face. “Stan, _what_ is going _on_?”

His hazel eyes met hers and she saw a spark in them that hadn’t been there before she’d left the room earlier. “We have a lot of explaining to do, don’t we?”

* * *

So maybe she believed him now. How else could six people go through something so terrifying – one of them winding up in the hospital with a good chunk torn out of his side – and not be speaking the truth? No drugs or illness she knew of made multiple people hallucinate the same thing, let alone reoccur from childhood!

There, in that sterile-smelling hospital room, she learned the terrible truth of Pennywise the Dancing Clown and how It had tormented her husband and his friends as children, repressing their memories once they’d left the town It had a hold over, and returned to feast on children once more.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t horrified and scared for them all.

That night, when she’d kissed Stan’s forehead to leave at the last minute of visitor’s hours, she noticed the scars along his forehead and paused. She traced them carefully, following them down the side of his face, noting that there was a parallel line on the other side of his face. He closed his eyes as her hands cupped his face and she rested her forehead against his.

“I love you,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the space between his brows. “I may not understand everything you’ve told me today, but I believe you. And I’m here to support you.”

His hands shook slightly as he lifted them to wrap tightly around her waist, pulling her in closer. He didn’t speak, just pressed a small kiss to her chin before burying his face in her chest.

* * *

Once they got home, he started to have nightmares. Not every night, but not rarely either. She bought some books and started researching PTSD and what to do to possibly help him calm down and feel safer once he was awake.

Every once in a while, he’d pause while doing something and get a look on his face – haunted, perplexed, overjoyed – she’d asked about it at one point and he told her that while the entire Pennywise situation had come back quickly after it’d been repressed, some of his childhood still hid in his brain and came out at the strangest of moments.

The most memorable of those strange moments was during sex once when he’d paused as he held her thighs to his hips, kissing her neck to pull back and apologize greatly before breaking into a cackle. She’d stared at him, mystified, until he lowered himself to press her into the bed, his cock going soft inside her.

“I just remembered having my first kiss with Richie,” he choked out before groaning into the pillow beside her head.

She brought a hand up to his back, smoothing it down the slightly sweaty skin gently. She giggled alongside him as he grumbled and groused about Richie ruining his mood, even when he wasn’t present. Her other hand came up to thread into his curls, prompting him to look at her. She smirked.

“Is it my glasses? Should I take them off so I don’t remind you of your other lover?”

He stared, before carefully pulling out of her and stomping fully nude out of their bedroom, leaving her behind to hoot after him in delight at his embarrassment.

“You and Richie are _never_ allowed to speak again!”

* * *

For some reason, it never occurred to her that his friends may suffer from nightmares too until Stan received a call one night.

She woke up to Stan’s quiet murmuring and the faint sobbing of another voice. Slowly, she sat up and leaned against Stan’s side, kissing his shoulder softly. He glanced at her, a tense smile in place as she realized it was a female crying on the other side of the line – Beverly.

Squinting over at their bedside clock, she could barely make out the time – 3:41 a.m.

“Bevvie, I assure you, I’m perfectly fine. I’m at my house, laying next to Patty. I’m oka – ”

“Stan,” she hiccupped, her voice rough as she whispered into the phone. “Do you remember when I was caught in the Deadlights when we first fought It?”

He took pause, his hand twitching on the bed next to Patty. She murmured sweetly, laying her hand over his, tucking her face into his shoulder. “Yes, I remember.”

“And how I said that I’d seen us all older?” Her voice cracked on the last word, before she cleared her throat harshly, tears clogging her voice. “Stan, Stan, I _saw_ you in the tub.”

Both Stan and Patty froze, looking at each other. The Losers knew that Stan had tried to commit suicide to take himself off the board, but they hadn’t gone into details – both to spare them the pain and to not relive it. Beverly let out another sob over the phone, sniffling before blowing her nose.

“Is that what your nightmare was about, Bev?” Stan whispered. “You saw me dying?”

“I saw you _dead_.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Stan spoke up, his voice unbearably soft. “I didn’t succeed, Bev. I’m safe, I’m alive.”

“I love you Stan,” she murmured. “I’m really glad Patty got you to the hospital in time.”

Stan glanced over at her, flipping his hand to entwine his fingers with hers. “So am I, Bevvie.”

* * *

“Do you want to invite your friends over some time?” She asked him one night over dinner. Stan looked up from his plate, hazel eyes curious. “I think it would do you all some good to be near one another, even if it’s for a short weekend or something.”

It had been a few weeks after Beverly had called, and just a few days past another nightmare induced panic attack.

He smiled at her and picked her hand up to kiss it, “Let’s call them after dinner.”

That’s just what they did – Skyping in order to get all of them in one place at one time.

“Oh, absolutely,” Richie immediately agreed, his face lighting up. “I dunno about you guys but I wanna meet our Pattycakes here!”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up with his fingers as he sighed. Patty giggled next to him, leaning her shoulder against his. “Richard, what did I say about called my wife that?”

“Listen, man, she can’t be friends with me and _not_ get a nickname.”

Eddie rolled his eyes on his camera, scoffing at the other man. Patty watched as Richie’s smile softened as he met Eddie’s eyes through his screen. “Is that what happens when you become friends with us? I should’ve read the fine print better, in that case.”

Stan huffed a small laugh under his breath as the two began bickering between each other. Patty just took her time to take in her husband’s friends. Bill was smirking at Richie and Eddie, while his fingers typed over his keyboard – he must be working on something alongside trying to talk with them, the over worker. Mike sat with his arms crossed as he too took in the scene in front of him, an expression of fond amusement on his face. Beverly and Ben talked between themselves, the only other two to be on the same screen since Beverly’s divorce had gone through finally, letting her move in with Ben a while after.

Patty felt happy to be in the company of these people – her husband’s most trusted and loved people. She glanced back over to Stan, before bumping her shoulder into his and leaning up to kiss him on the jaw. His hand came up to brush against the base of her low ponytail, fingers lingering on the back of her neck.

“So, when exactly were you guys thinking?” Bill spoke up, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. “Because I’m free in a few days?”

Stan cleared his throat, resting his chin in his hand. “A weekend, most likely, so no one is inconvenienced too much.”

Beverly spoke up, her voice soft. “It’s never an inconvenience to make time to see you guys.”

A silence enveloped the call, and Patty could feel the love that they all shared, her heart soaring in her chest. Richie even quieted down, smiling at the camera goofily.

“We can put you guys up for longer if you’d like,” Patty offered, seeing their eyes widen. “I’d love to get to know you guys much better than I do.”

* * *

Mike was the first to arrive a month later for the two-week vacation that they’d all planned out in their calendars. Stan went out to meet him as he exited his cab, the two pulling each other in and embracing tightly. Patty watched from the porch as they grab Mike’s couple bags and bid the cabbie farewell.

“Hello, Mike,” Patty smiled widely as he approached her. He shouldered his duffel bag, reaching out to give her a hug with his free arm. She patted his back gently, soaking in the man’s presence. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, Patty.” Grinning, Mike bumped his side into Stan, jostling him. “Now show me where I’m staying so I can settle in and tell your wife all the embarrassing shit you haven’t remembered.”

“That’s just rude,” Stan stated, leading his friend into their house even so, Patty trailing after them.

* * *

Bill showed up next, only an hour or so after Mike. The three of them had been laughing in the living room as Mike and Stan told her about the time Richie had tried to prove that he could drink a whole gallon of milk in a few minutes. There was a short knock to the door which startled Stan and Mike, their heads whipping around before they met each other’s gazes and laughed easily.

“I’ll get it,” Stan said, straightening his trousers as he stood. Patty watched him leave before turning to Mike. She could hear her husband open the door, vaguely hearing Bill let out a small sob-laugh when Stan greeted him.

“So, you stayed in Derry this whole time?” She asked quietly, catching Mike’s eyes. He gave her a small, sad smile. “That must’ve been hard – having them all disappear like that. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

Mike glanced over his shoulder as Bill and Stan moved through the house, Bill waving to her before they Stan led him away. “It was, to be honest. But, I’m just glad to have the opportunity to live in peace now.”

She reached over and took his hand, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I am very glad to have the opportunity to meet you guys, especially after everything you guys went through while Stan was in the hospital.”

“And we’re glad to be able to meet you too, Patty.” Mike replied as footsteps made their way back towards the living room. Patty stood, dropping his hand as Stan and Bill came into view.

Bill hugged her as soon as she stepped forward, pressing his face into her shoulder. She hugged him back just as tightly, gently rubbing a shoulder. Stan had warned her that he, Richie and Eddie may feel stronger about meeting her – them being his first, closest friends and she being his wife and the person who had saved his life.

He cleared his throat as he pulled back, his eyes a little wet when she grinned at him. “It’s nice to meet you finally Patty.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Bill. Come on, we were just talking about Richie being a fool.”

* * *

Ben and Beverly showed up shortly after Bill, their voices carrying in the air well before they reached the front door. Patty got up this time to welcome them in, leaving the men to continue talking and laughing in the living room.

Opening the door, she watched Ben carry his and Bev’s suitcases up the short staircase and set them both down before turning to hold his hand out to her. She watched with a fondness as Beverly took his hand the rest of the way up the stairs, kissing the back of his palm when she stood beside him. It was quiet for a moment and then the other couple noticed her and smiled, cheering a little.

“Hi, Patty!” Beverly crowed, opening her arms as Patty opened the door for them. She let the redhead envelope her into a strong hug, scooting them both back so that Ben could shuffle their baggage into the house. “It’s so nice to see you in person!”

“Hello Patty,” Ben greeted, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek while Beverly pulled back slightly. Having two beautiful people in her face left Patty a little breathless and the couple laughed as they noticed her silence.

“Why don’t you show us where to put these ol’ things and then we can get back to our boys?” Beverly asked, grabbing one of the suitcases, gently glaring at Ben when he tried to take it from her. He rolled his eyes at her and caught Patty’s gaze before laughing.

“Follow me,” Patty chuckled, patting Ben on the shoulder.

* * *

Eddie and Richie showed up last, surprisingly together. They got out of their cab; bickering as they grabbed three suitcases from its trunk, bickering as they made their way up the sidewalk, bickering as Stan and Patty opened the door for them before they fell completely quiet.

“Stan,” Eddie whispered, letting go of the one suitcase to throw himself at the taller man. Stan let out a quiet huff before his arms came to envelope his friend. Richie smiled and waved at Patty before Stan’s hand shot out and dragged him into a hug. Eddie let out a watery laugh as Richie full on broke down against Stan’s shoulder, his hands gripping his shoulders.

“Hi, Eddie,” Patty murmured, offering her arms open in a hug. He let out a small sob before walking into her arms, pulling her tight to himself. She knew to be careful of his left side, as it was still healing from their final fight against It, so she curled her arms around his shoulders and pressed his face into her neck. “I’m glad to meet you.”

“Don’t hog our Mrs. Uris here, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie cut in, his voice trembling. Eddie let her go with a soft laugh, nudging Richie as he stepped away.

“Told you to stop calling me that,” he said in a fond tone as Richie pulled Patty into a snug embrace. She grinned at her husband over Richie’s shoulder as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Richie pressed a short kiss to the top of her head before pulling away, sniffling a little bit. Eddie patted his elbow before turning to Stan. “Where ya sticking us, Stan?”

* * *

The night ended quickly, everyone jet-lagged and dozing by the time the sun started to go down. One by one, the Losers shuffled off to their places; Ben and Bev in the guest room, Mike and Bill sharing their bigger guest room, and Eddie and Richie sharing the pull-out couch in the office. Stan did his normal rounds of the house as Patty cleaned up the kitchen; she listened as he locked the door three times, flicked the lights in the living room three times, closing and locking their window seat’s glass pane three times. The routine comforted her, and she felt a lull roll over her as she wiped the counter down after having put the last of the dishes in their dishwasher.

It didn’t take long til Stan was wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. She stilled, leaning back into his embrace and sighing softly.

“Ready for bed, babylove?” Stan asked, nuzzling his nose into her hair. She let out a breathy laugh when he knocked her glasses a little askew on her face.

“Let me just wash my hands, Stan,” she murmured before they moved together so she could turn on the sink. Sometimes Stan got like this, even before the memories of Derry returned. He felt like he wasn’t close enough to her and always wound up clinging to her like he wanted to merge their existences – not that she’d complain to be quite honest.

She’d barely dried her hands before he was spinning her in his arms, towel whipping around between her damp hands. She giggled at him as he pressed gentle kisses to the bridge of her nose, her jawline, the tip of her chin. She tossed the towel over her shoulder before draping her arms over his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he whispered against her skin, pressing his palms into her lower back to press her closer. She hummed, tangling one hand into his blond curls as he pressed a kiss to her brow. “I’m so lucky to have you as my other half, Patty.”

She bumped her nose against his. “I feel the same way, Stan.”

* * *

Patty had expected the first few days of having the Losers with them to be awkward; a little hard to work around so many people in the house, not to mention fit their idiosyncrasies into a day of life.

It was surprisingly easier than she’d expected, truly.

She learned that Eddie liked to shower twice a day, after his morning run that began at five a.m., and right before bed, so he’d bring nothing into the sheets with him. She’d caught him pushing Richie into the guest bathroom after himself the second night that they were there, complaining that he’d have to share a bed with all the germs Richie had gathered that day if he didn’t shower that instance.

She learned that Mike liked to take about an hour each day to sit down with some coffee or tea and just breathe, usually outside. One day when she’d joined him, he said the air outside of Derry was entirely different – no evil feeling: no muck clogging his lungs with horrible emotions and dread. Every so often, she’d catch Bill out there with him, their thighs and shoulders pressed together as they sat on the back-deck’s steps, eyes closed in silence.

She learned that Bev had insomnia, and tended to drift around the house at night, quiet as a mouse. The boys had nearly lost their minds hearing Patty and Bev scream as they bumped into each other in the pitch-black kitchen one night. Now, whenever Patty awoke in the night, she normally seeked Bev out, sharing camomile tea and stories from both of their childhoods.

She learned that Ben had an affinity for poetry, constantly grabbing a sheet of paper to jot something down before asking the nearest person how it sounded in their head. Bev was obviously his muse and his biggest fan – she usually read his paper and then leaned in and pressed a slow, romantic kiss to his lips. Patty thought it was the cutest thing she’d seen another couple do.

She learned that Bill stuttered when his emotions were high – whether it was fighting with his editor over the phone or whether it was at 11 p.m. on a Wednesday night when all the Losers were on the back deck, Mike’s arm draped over his shoulders as they all relaxed in each other’s presences.

She learned that Richie was actually quite sensitive under all his jokes and teasing. Sometimes she’d find him curled up with Stan or Bill, talking about their childhood and their young beginnings. Sometimes she’d find him spinning Bev in the kitchen after they’d offered to do dishes, his face soft as she laughed. Sometimes he’d just be sitting there, a soft, fond smile on his face while Mike and Ben argued over which movie was the better – The Goonies or The Lost Boys. And sometimes, just sometimes, she’d catch him watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye, heart there in his pupils as the shorter man raged or laughed.

But, even with the ease there were still bad moments that popped up in the two weeks she spent in their company.

One such time was during a bad thunderstorm.

It came on around midnight or one a.m., startling her out of her sleep with that first large thunderclap. She felt Stan stiffen under her arm where she was spooning him, before he relaxed again, sighing into his pillow.

But he bolted up when he heard the first scream.

“Bill!” He squeaked out, his voice rough from sleep. She sat up with him as he threw back the covers. She could see the rain coming down in sheets outside their bedroom window, their baby blue curtains contrasting the darkness of the sky as lightning streaked across it.

Stan slipped from the bed, tossing on a pair of flannel pants over his boxers as she heard sobbing come down the hall from their second guest room. He met her eyes and gave her a grimace of a smile. With that, she got up as well, straightening her nightgown.

“I’ll grab some more blankets,” she soothed, fumbling for her glasses. “Go see if he’s okay. I’ll be there soon.”

By the time she got there, blankets and sheets piled up in her slim arms, all the Losers were there as well. Bill sat in the center of the big bed, his best friends on every side of him. Stan and Eddie were on either side, Richie sitting behind him with his long legs on either side of him. The poor man sobbed harshly as Bev pushed his graying hair back, shushing him with a soft coo. Ben rubbed his calf through his pants and Mike laid his head against his other knee, opposite Ben.

“I-I-I,” Bill stuttered, his voice hoarse and clogged with tears. Richie hummed, pressing a kiss to his hair as Bill shook in their arms. “H-h-he’s still go-gone. I w-wo-woke up ex-expec-exp-,”

He growled in anger and Patty plopped all the blankets down on the end of the bed, drawing everyone’s attention to herself. She smiled softly, crawling on the bed with her husband and his best friends. Bill sniffled as she dragged the heaviest blanket she had over to him, letting him accept the weight of it into his arms and legs.

That night they all fell asleep holding Bill, Patty pressed up awkwardly against Stan’s torso and Mike’s spine. The next morning, Bill quietly thanked her; he always took his little brother’s death the hardest during storms. He was glad that she’d been there for him alongside his friends – it made him love her more.

There were other bad times: Bev’s panic attack when she saw a man who resembled her ex-husband at the grocery store; Richie and Eddie screaming at each other one night, their voices indistinguishable through multiple walls; Stan closing up one night, snapping at anyone who tried to get him to talk – even Patty.

But they made her feel like their relationships got stronger when they got resolved and addressed.

She was happy.

* * *

  
Two weeks were over before she could blink, leaving her feeling somber as she and Stan saw each of the Losers out.

Bill was the first to leave, needing to get back to edit a manuscript before its deadline. He hugged all the Losers close, pressing kisses to Patty and Bev’s cheeks. Richie complained that all he ever got was hugs from the other man – where was his kiss, Big Bill? The leader of their group left laughing, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he got into his Uber.

Ben and Bev left second, taking their time to hug and bask in their presence one last time. Bev promised to be in close touch with Patty, and to even add her to their little group chat that they had going. The couple left after pulling Stan into a group hug, tucking their noses into his neck as they said their goodbyes.

Eddie and Richie left next, quietly confiding in Patty and Stan that they were living together in L.A.; Eddie had moved there after his divorce with Myra was finalized and he felt comfortable enough to travel with his wound. They were trying a relationship, Richie murmured, his eyes fond as they locked with Eddie’s. Patty grinned and kissed them both on their cheeks, stepping back to watch Stan pull them into a tight hug together. They left soon after, hugging Mike before their Uber pulled up.

Mike was the last to leave, as he was the first to arrive. He hugged Stan close, whispered a few words in his ear that had the slender man tearing up a little bit. With a wide grin, Mike pulled Patty into a tight embrace, kissing the side of her head as he thanked her for having him.

“Anytime,” Patty said sincerely, patting his shoulder gently. “I mean it, anytime you or any other Loser get lonely, you’re more than welcome here.”

“Please don’t tell Richie that,” Stan laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. She nudged him in the side with her elbow as Mike laughed with him. “We’ll never get rid of him then, Patty.”

Mike’s Uber pulled up and beeped, urging him to stoop and pick up his duffel bag. Stan grabbed his other couple bags and helped him pack up the Uber. She waved as he got into the vehicle, before they took off. Stan walked back up the porch stairs to pause before her, a few steps lower than her.

“They love you,” he said in a quiet voice, reaching up to cradle her cheek in his palm. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, bringing her own hands up to rest on his chest.

“I’m very glad,” she replied in a murmur. He leaned up to press a soft kiss to her lips as she opened her eyes to meet his loving gaze. He swiped his thumb over the crest of her cheekbone.

“Welcome to the Losers club, Patty.”

**Author's Note:**

> My endings are as bad as Bill's, bye!
> 
> Comment and Kudos as you please!


End file.
